


You Should Probably Stay

by flipmeforward (vinterdrog)



Category: Glee
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 16:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2628041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinterdrog/pseuds/flipmeforward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt shows up unexpectedly at Elliott's door. It works out well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Should Probably Stay

**Author's Note:**

> written for [kelliott appreciation weekend](http://fyeahkelliott.tumblr.com/tagged/kelliottappreciationweekend). thanks to julia [colfhummel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/colfhummel/pseuds/colfhummel) for inspiration and for existing ♥︎

Elliott has just put the kettle on to make more tea, when there’s a knock on his door. He frowns, because he’s not expecting anyone today, if he had, he would’ve put on  _pants_. Oh well. He abandons the kettle and goes to open the door, revealing—Kurt. Who’s soaking wet. 

“I’m sorry,” Kurt blurts out before Elliott has a chance to say anything. “I was—well, never mind what I was, it was stupid, anyway. But it started raining, and—I was a lot closer to here than to my place.” He crosses his arms over his chest, doesn’t quite meet Elliott’s eyes. “Sorry if I’m intruding,” he adds, then falls silent. 

Elliott doesn’t point out that Kurt could be pretty much anywhere in New York and still be closer to Elliott’s place than his own, knows that Kurt doesn’t need another reminder of how much he’s had to downgrade since Rachel and Santana left for L.A. Instead, he just swings the door open and takes a step back, letting Kurt in. 

“Of course you’re not intruding. Come in. Do you want to borrow some clothes?”

“Yeah, that’s be great, thanks,” Kurt says, taking off his coat and putting it on the hanger Elliott hands him. Elliott turns to go to the bedroom, and Kurt follows. “Were you…doing laundry, or something?” he asks, and that’s when Elliott notices that Kurt is trying really hard not to stare at Elliott’s bare legs. 

“No,” he says, opening his closet. “I just didn’t expect any company today.” If he bends over slightly more than necessary to retrieve a pair of sweatpants from a shelf, well, no one has to know. 

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says again, more quiet this time. Elliott stands back up and turns around, handing Kurt the pants before rifling through a drawer for a t-shirt. 

“Kurt, it’s okay,” he says. “Do you want me to put on pants, too?”

Kurt’s eyes widen at the question, and Elliott has to bite his lip to stop his smile. If it had been anyone else, Elliott would’ve excused himself to put on pants as soon as he’d opened the door, but with Kurt, it’s…different. They’re friends, but they’ve been toeing around the line of something more for a while now. Elliott _wants_  more, and if walking around without pants in Kurt’s presence is what it takes for Kurt to finally snap, either way, then that’s a sacrifice Elliott is willing to make. 

“What? No!” Kurt says, and then coughs. “I mean—Uhm. Do what you want. But I don’t—“ He looks pained and embarrassed, so Elliott saves him. 

“You need a sweater, too?” he asks, nodding at the bundle of clothes in Kurt’s arms. 

“Yes please,” Kurt says, obviously relieved, shivering again. He really must be soaked through. 

Elliott digs out a hoodie and hands it to him. “You want tea?” he asks. “I was just making some.”

Kurt nods. “Thanks. For everything.”

Elliott smiles. “Anytime.”

* * *

 

“Honestly, we’re not  _this_  different,” Kurt says a few minutes later, walking into the kitchen just as Elliott pulls the tea bags out of the mugs. He turns around and can’t stop the surprised laughter bubbling out of him when he sees Kurt. 

He looks more like his more confident self not that he’s in dry clothes, but they’re big on him. The pants are folded up a couple of times to avoid being stepped on, and Kurt is holding up his sleeve-covered hands with a disgruntled expression. 

“Apparently we are,” Elliott says, not saying anything about how he maybe gave Kurt those clothes with their size difference in mind. He also tries really hard to ignore the surge of arousal going through him at seeing Kurt in his clothes. 

They’re  _friends_. 

Elliott clears his throat. “Sugar and milk, right?” he asks, and Kurt nods, still looking displeased with how big Elliott’s clothes are on him. 

“What were you doing anyway?” he asks as Elliott hands him his mug. “Before I came?”

Elliott shrugs. “Not a lot. I was gonna watch a movie.”

Kurt fiddles with his tea mug and and takes a sip. “We could do that? I really don’t want to—“

“Kurt,” Elliott interrupts him. “It’s  _okay_. You’re not intruding. But yeah, we can watch a movie.” 

He leads the way over to the couch and picks up his computer. “Any preferences?” he asks as he brings up Netflix. Kurt shakes his head and brings his knees up to his chest, balancing his mug on top of them. 

“No,” he says. “Whatever you want is fine.”

Elliott hums and picks the one he’d planned on watching anyway, not really knowing what Kurt will think about it, but not really caring, either. If Kurt hates it, Elliott has no doubt that he’ll let him know. He plugs the cable into the computer and presses play, then grabs his tea mug and leans back. The movie loads, and Elliott relaxes into the cushions. 

For the first twenty-something minutes, Elliott is too wrapped up in the movie to pay any attention to Kurt, but when his mug is empty and he leans forward to put it down, he shoots a glance at Kurt and almost drops his mug. 

Kurt is sitting curled up at the other end of the couch, his arms wrapped around his legs, hoodie pulled up over his head, trying to make himself as small as possible. He’s not aware that Elliott is looking at him, he’s too busy peeking over his knees at the TV and then turning back down again. 

“Kurt?” Elliott says, and Kurt flinches and looks at him. 

“What?”

“Are you…afraid of the movie?” Elliott asks, because that’s the only conclusion he can make. 

“No,” Kurt replies, and it is the shittiest lie Elliott has ever heard. Without another word, he shifts on the couch and lifts his arm. 

“Come here,” he says. Kurt hesitates for a moment, then he scoots over, pressing himself close against Elliott. 

“Do you want me to turn it off?” Elliott asks, even though he doesn’t want to, because he likes having a reason to have Kurt this close. 

Kurt shakes his head. “No. It’s, it’s quite good, actually.”

He doesn’t sound totally convinced by himself, but Elliott doesn’t question him, just relaxes his arm, letting his hand fall on Kurt’s shoulder. The dry clothes and the tea have done their job, because Kurt’s skin is warm, even through the fabric of the hoodie. 

They’ve sat close together before, they’ve hugged, even held hands, but  _this_ , sitting like this, close on the couch, with no one else here, it feels different, it feels  _good._  There’s a low hum of arousal thrumming under Elliott’s skin, making him hyper-aware of Kurt’s thigh pressed against his own, Kurt’s arm pressed against his side, Kurt’s neck against his arm. He shifts again, regretting now that he didn’t put on pants, because if he’s going to get hard, it will be visible within half a second. He tries to focus on the movie instead, hoping it’ll kill every arousing thought and feeling. 

It’s a successful plan, for about five minutes. Then comes a scene with two men kissing, and honestly, there’s a limit to what Elliott can handle. He sits up abruptly, ignoring Kurt’s squeak when his position is jostled, and grabs their mugs from the table. 

“Do you want more tea?” he asks, his voice possibly pitched a little higher than normal. 

“No thanks?” Kurt says, looking confused and a little suspicious. Elliott doesn’t elaborate, and definitely doesn’t pause the movie, just takes the mugs and walks out into the kitchen. He puts them on the counter, then takes a deep breath, trying to collect himself. 

_Friends,_  he reminds himself. Between them, Kurt is the last one out of a relationship. He gets to take the first step into this one. 

* * *

 

Kurt doesn’t say anything when Elliott comes back to the couch, this time wearing jeans. He does arch an eyebrow, though, and bites his lip to cover a smirk, just a second too late. 

“I was cold,” Elliott says defensively, and Kurt just hums, humoring him. He sits down on the couch again and Kurt slides close, pressing their legs together more intently than before. Elliott swallows, glad he put on jeans and not sweatpants, and tries to direct his focus at the movie again. 

When the climax starts building up, Kurt starts shifting beside him, and soon, Elliott is torn between watching the movie, and watching Kurt, who seems to be trying to make himself as small as possible. 

“Shut up,” Kurt says when he notices Elliott’s looking. 

“I didn’t say anything!” 

“Your think I’m an idiot, I can see it in your eyes.”

“Hey, no, I don’t think you’re an idiot,” Elliott protests. “I just think you’re cute.” It just slips out of him. Sure, he’s said hundreds of variations on that to Kurt before, before band practice and when they’re out shopping, casual compliments when he meets Kurt and he’s wearing a nice shirt. This is different, though, Elliott knows it, and judging by how Kurt stops his squirming and stiffens beside him, he knows it, too. 

“Okay,” Kurt says finally, after a long stretch of tense silence. 

“I’m sorry,” Elliott says, closing his legs to make his thigh stop pressing against Kurt’s. “That was—“ He gets interrupted when Kurt leans in and kisses him. 

“That was totally okay,” Kurt finishes for him when he pulls away. “Right?” he adds, suddenly nervous. 

“Yes,” Elliott says emphatically, grabbing Kurt’s neck to bring him in for another kiss. 

Movie abandoned, Kurt straddles Elliott’s lap, wrapping his arms around his neck for a better position to kiss him. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for weeks,” Kurt murmurs against his lips, pressing his whole body closer, rubbing his ass against Elliott’s thighs, his crotch against Elliott’s. “Cold, huh?” he says with a smirk when Elliott jerks up against him at the combined friction and pressure.

“Shut up,” Elliott shoots back. “I didn’t want to scare you.”

“Scare me?” Kurt says, grinding down with more purpose now. 

“I’m not sure if you can take it,” Elliott replies, putting his hands on Kurt’s ass, thrilled that he can, that he’s  _allowed_. 

“That I can’t—I’ll show you what I can  _take_ , Gilbert,” Kurt says, and Elliott is torn between laughing at the ridiculousness of it, and moaning at the thought of Kurt purposely fucking himself down on Elliott’s cock, just to prove a point. When Kurt starts sucking on his neck, the moaning wins, and Kurt looks up at him with a pleased expression. 

“Yeah?”

“Fucking  _hell_  yeah,” Elliott breathes.

“Good,” Kurt says, smiling, then does it again.

Elliott has never been so glad to open the door without wearing pants, ever. 


End file.
